Save Me
by ifonlyifonlythewoodpeckersighs
Summary: "Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full." John looked up to see a young boy, his age. Ebony curls framed his ivory face, and his blue-grey eyes gleamed with intelligence. His lip was slightly curled up on one side. John sat gaping, dumbfounded. He rapidly blinked his eyes and finally produced an answer. "N-No, I-I don't mind." Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Harry Potter


"Oh, John! We're so proud of you!"

"Yes, of course! After all, it isn't everyday someone finds out they're a wizard." An eleven year-old John Watson smiled up at his grandparents, who were radiating like the sun.

"So, what? You're a wizard. Big deal." John turned to see his younger sister standing in the corner, with her arms crossed over her chest. She would be angry at him.

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Who would be jealous of a freak like you?" Even though she was just eight years old, she had a nack for clawing on John's nerves like no one else. Everyone else in the family was magical, why shouldn't he be? He knew he should just ignore her, but it was much harder than it seemed. He also knew at least one good thing would happen with him going to Hogwarts: he would be rid of her.

"Shut up, Harry." She stuck her tongue out at him, and was made to go to her room. John's grandparents never understood why she was so hostile, and at that point in his life, niether did John. He decided to shake it off, and went back to thinking of all the wonderful things Hogwarts would bring.

"Sherlock, this is wonderful! Now we have two wizards in the family! We never could have hoped for something as fortunate as this."

"Well, mother, as you and everyone else in our bloody family beside Mycroft and I are muggles, I wouldn't expect you to think, so to speak, out of the box."

"Oh, hush now. Aren't you excited Mycroft? You're little brother will be going to school with you now!"

"Oh, I can hardly contain myself."

"Oh, he really can, you know." Young Sherlock Holmes didn't understand. Not only were he and his brother bloody brilliant, but they were also wizards. And that made them different from everyone else in the family. They were so ordinary, Sherlock didn't know if he should take pity on them or just despise them. At least at Hogwarts people would be somewhat like him, in the aspect of magic, that is. Mycroft had told him all about it, and if he wasn't wrong, which he never was, he would be in Ravenclaw, like his brother. Sherlock was actually looking forward to it, if only to be away from muggles. He sat down and pretended to be listening to his parents. He was really practicing deduction on his brother, who, he deduced, was practicing deduction on him.

"Yes, that is the wand for you." Olivander smiled down at John. "Twelve and three-quarters of an inch, pear wood, phoenix feather core, and surprisingly swishy. Don't you know that another boy your age left not to long ago with that wand's twin?"

"Really? Who was he?"

"Oh, I can't remember his name, but he had black curly hair, and rather pale skin. He was very, er, outgoing."

"I wonder what it could mean, us having wands that are twins."

"As do I." John smiled, and left the wand store. When he got outside and checked his shopping list, he saw that the only thing left to buy was a pet. He hurriedly ran to the store, and he left with a barn owl.

"I think I'll call you Mary. Is that alright?" The owl chirped, and she gently nipped at John's ear. "Alright, Mary it is." He laughed, and went to find platform nine and three-quarters with his grandparents.

Sherlock bought his wand first. He was angry at it's flexibility. He wanted a loyal wand. But when he asked Olivander about it, he said that the wand chose him and there was nothing he could do. Sherlock left the store, scowling, and went to buy his pet. He chose a lovely black cat, and named her Bella. She was the only one in the store who liked him, and purred when he said her name. After the fun was over, he bought his books, cauldron, and other supplies. Then he waited for Mycroft, who had finished shopping but insisted on talking with every teacher they ran into in Diagon Alley. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Sherlock, they left for the Hogwarts express.

"Have you seen a toad? A boy named Nevel lost one."

John shook his head, and the girl with the wavy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes walked away. The young wizard tapped his feet on the floor of the train. He was alone, but he thought that was better. He blushed and got nervous when he talked to people.

"Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full." John looked up to see a young boy, his age. Ebony curls framed his ivory face, and his blue-grey eyes gleamed with intelligence. His lip was slightly curled up on one side. John sat gaping, dumbfounded. He rapidly blinked his eyes and finally produced an answer.

"N-No, I-I don't mind." The boy furrowed his brow, and slowly stepped inside. He sat down and calmly stared at John, who felt his cheeks burning. After what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

"I'm Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

"John Watson." John stared in awe for a moment longer before remembering his manners. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yes, I'd assume so." Sherlock stared at the boy with the sandy hair, bright navy blue eyes, and light tan skin. He knew he was nervous by his stammering and his red face. He also knew that his parents must have thought manners important, by his formality. He practiced deduction on John, who, he deduced, wanted more than anything to be alone. Too bad!

"So, what house do you want to be in?" Sherlock resisted the urge to pound his head against the wall. For John's sake he smiled, and answered his mind numbingly simple question.

"Oh, well I want to be in Ravenclaw. What about you, John?" John's heart thudded against his rib cage. He called him by his name! It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping for Gryffindor." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Typical. Everybody wants Gryffindor, as it is apparently the best house, although I fail to see why. Is it because they're supposed to be brave, and honorable? Not very important characteristics in my mind. I prefer intelligence above all else. When Voldemort strikes again, as it is quite clear he will, bravery and honor will not keep you alive, but intelligence will."

"You said it, he who must not be named!" John sat there in shock and awe.

"What? Who? Oh, Voldemort?" John rapidly nodded his head. "Oh, forgive me, if I am not bothered by the mere name of an enemy. You should learn not to be, too. If just the mention of him frightens you, I can only imagine what would happen if you were to come face to face. Well, actually, that's not true, I'm sure I know what would happen. You would probably die, or at least be brought under his power because of your weak will and mind. Learn to not be afraid, John, and chances are that you might not die." John fought back tears. His cheeks felt like they were on fire, and his heart was ramming against his rib cage so hard that he was sure they would break.

"I uh... I have to go to the loo." He practically ran out the door. Sherlock almost felt bad. His statements about John having a weak will and mind were just guesses, but now they were comfirmed. But such is the beauty of deduction. When John came back, he looked as if he had been crying. He sat down, clenching his fists.

"John, I-"

"I don't have a weak will."

Sherlock paused. "Sorry?"

"I don't have a weak will, and I don't have a weak mind. If I were to face..." he gulped, and took a deep breath. "Voldemort, I would not die, or fall under his control. You're wrong."

Sherlock blinked. Well, now he had to do a revaluation. Apparently, John did not have a weak will or mind, as was proved by him having the balls to say so to Sherlock. And, just maybe, perhaps he wouldn't die or fall under the Dark Lord's power. Sherlock smiled.

"I know. You just needed to prove it to yourself, that's why I said all those things. So you wouldn't be afraid." John gave him a puzzled look.

"Wait, you were trying to help me?" Sherlock nodded. "Oh. Well, um, thanks... Sherlock."

"Any time." Sherlock smirked to himself. He was going to have fun with this one.

"I'm sorry I ran off like that."

"No, I shouldn't have been so rude."

"No, you were trying to help me. And it's not that I'm afraid of Voldemort's name, it's just..." John sighed. "My parents were killed by him." Sherlock stared at him. He didn't know what to say. John continued. "He used the cruciatus curse, trying to get information out of them, but they wouldn't give in. I was only four. I live with my grandparents now."

"I'm sorry, John. If I had known..."

"No, It's fine." John smiled. "I mean, it's like you said, I need to not be afraid." Sherlock smiled back.

"We're here!" John got up and ran to the window. Sherlock chuckled quietly. He figured he should stick with John, if only because his behavior was amusing. John turned around and smiled widely at Sherlock, who found himself smiling back. Outside their door students were filing off the train.

"Well, It's time to go. Shall we?" Sherlock stood up and waited for John to follow him. They left the train together, and ended up in the same boat. Sherlock watched John as he stared in wonder at the castle looming above them. When they got inside, they were met by a tall woman in a green dress and witch's hat. A young boy ran up in front of her to catch his toad. Must be Nevel. John felt bad for him. The witch lady left for only a moment before coming back and guiding them into the great hall.

"Are you nervous?" John whispered to Sherlock, and gripped his hand.

"No, but clearly you are." John looked down and noticed he was holding Sherlock's hand, and quickly let go.

"Sorry."

"No problem." When the witch called Harry Potter's name, a murmur went through the crowd of students, and John gripped Sherlock's hand again. Sherlock smiled, and didn't say anything. He almost fell asleep from the boredom of it all until his name was called. He pried John's fingers from his hand, and walked up to the stool. When the sorting hat was set on his head, he could hear it's voice in his mind, probing his deepest inner thoughts and feelings. Sherlock saw John staring up at him with anticipation, and he smiled at him. John blushed, and looked away. When Sherlock smiled at John, it was like something clicked in the sorting hat's mind, and after John looked away, he shouted out Sherlock's house.

"Slytherin!" Sherlock walked to his table, looking at John as he did. The yound boy stared at him with confusion and hurt, a mirror of Sherlock's own feelings. He didn't understand why he was sorted into Slytherin, of all places, instead of Ravenclaw. He looked past the crowd of the other first years to the Ravenclaw table, where his older brother sat staring back at him coldly. Sherlock gave a weak smile to the older Slytherins who were congratulating him, and looked at John again. John stared back at him until his name was called. He looked up at the witch nervously, and wished desperately that he could be holding Sherlock's hand. When the hat was placed on his head, he repeatedly asked to be put into Slytherin. He could practically see the hat's smirk as he said into his mind:

"Slytherin, eh? Is it because of the other boy?" John felt his cheeks grow hot. "So it is. But you are not a Slytherin, my dear lad. And I wouldn't have put the other boy into it either if it weren't for you."

"Me?" John whispered it weakly, staring at Sherlock as he did.

"Yes, John, you. But you are young, and have much to learn. You will not understand my decisions for years, I'm sure. But trust me when I say that when the time comes you will understand them." The hat cleared his throat, do hats have throats? and shouted John's house.

"Hufflepuff!" John smiled and walked to his table, where everyone clapped and cheered. He turned around and looked at the Slytherin table, and stared longingly after Sherlock. When the sorting ceremony and the feast was over, he practically ran to the Slytherin table. When he got there, though, Sherlock was gone.

"H-Has anyone seen Sherlock?" The older Slytherins laughed at him, and he returned, crestfallen, to his own table. They were led to the kitchen, where they entered the Hufflepuff common room through barrels in the corner of the room. When John got inside, he marveled at how cozy it was. There was a warm fire crackling in the fireplace, and plants hung everywhere. It was low ceilinged with windows high on the walls. The doors to their rooms were circular, and the beds were covered in patch work quilts. John felt right at home, except for one thing. Sherlock wasn't with him, and he was astonished at how attached he had grown to the boy whom he had just met. He sat down on his bed and wondered how Sherlock was getting along.

During the feast, Sherlock left to go the loo. He didn't really have to go, he just needed to think in a quiet place. He pondered over how he would ever spend time with John outside of class, and then he pondered why he wanted to spend time with John outside of class. Sherlock had never grown emotionally attached to anyone, let alone someone he had just met. But John had a sweetness, an innocent sweetness that Sherlock adored. He also thought how amazing it was for John to be this way, after what happened with his parents. Sherlock left the loo just in time to catch up with his group heading for their common room. They entered through a secret passage in the dungeons. When Sherlock stepped inside, he stared in awe all around him. He could hear the water of the black lake lapping against the windows, and when he looked he saw the giant squid swooshing by. When he got to his room, he was met by a beautiful bed covered by a green quilt embroidered with silver thread. He layed down and tried to sleep, but couldn't. He was thinking about John, and he hoped that he could see him again.

"Hey. Hey!" John woke up to someone shaking him.

"What? What is it?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and the other student laughed. She was a first year, too. She had short brown hair, styled in a bob with bangs that framed her round face. She had bright blue eyes, with a thin ring of hazel around her pupils. Freckles ran across the bridge of her nose, and her cheeks were a light shade of red. She smiled down at John.

"It's time to get up. Breakfast will be starting soon, and everyone else has left." John sat up.

"How did you get in here? This is the boys room."

"Oh, the others told me there was a boy still sleeping in here, but they didn't have the heart to wake you up, so they let me."

"Oh, well, thanks. I'm John Watson." He held out his hand to her.

"Adeline Thompson." They shook hands, and then Adeline left him alone to get dressed. When John came out, she was sitting in front of the fireplace. She looked sad. But when she heard him coming, she quickly smiled, and stood up.

"You waited for me?"

"Of course! If I were you and you were me, you wouldn't have left me alone, would you?"

"No, I suppose not." They laughed, and Adeline hooked her arm with his.

"Let's go!" John smiled at her, and they left for the great hall.

When Sherlock woke up, his room was empty. He got dressed and walked into the main room, yawning. When he got there, everyone was going about their own business, but he noticed one person who stood out. A young girl, a first year, like himself. She had long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, and light grey eyes. She had pale skin, and soft features. Her face was grim, and she looked angry. Sherlock walked over to where she was on the sofa, and sat down next to her. She looked him over, like she was sizing him up. After a minute she smirked, and looked away. Sherlock cleared his throat, but she ignored him.

"Do you know when breakfast starts?" The girl looked at him with an expression that could only be described as mildly amused, before she answered him.

"Now. Shall we?" Sherlock looked around to see everyone filing out of the room. He was shocked that he hadn't noticed, but even more shocked at the girl's invitation. She stood up and looked at him impatiently.

"Yeah, let's go." He got up and followed her out of the room. "I'm Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

"Katharina Dawson." She shot her hand out behind her, and tentatively, Sherlock shook it. They walked together in silence toward the great hall. When they got there, they sat together. Sherlock craned his neck over the crowd to look for John, but couldn't see him anywhere. He poked at his food with his fork, and didn't eat anything. Katharina looked at him questioningly.

"What's up with you?" Sherlock shrugged, but just then, he heard the door to the hall open. He turned around and watched John enter the room with a young girl. At first he smiled, but then his face darkened. John was laughing, and smiling at the girl, and they're arms were intertwined. Katharina followed his stare, and watched John and Adeline sit down at their table, then she started laughing. Sherlock glared daggers at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You! You were so happy to see that Hufflepuff boy," she snorted. "But then you saw that girl, and Jesus, I can feel the jealousy coming off of you. Why would you care about some Hufflepuff kid, anyway?" Sherlock just stared at her, and she couldn't stop laughing.

"Shut up, Kat." She stopped laughing.

"Kat?" Sherlock shrugged.

"It's easier to say than Katharina." She smiled.

"So, I take it that we're friends?" Sherlock was still angry, but he smiled.

"I guess so."

"But really, why do you care about that Hufflepuff?"

"He's my friend."

"But he's a Hufflepuff."

"So? Why does that matter? Just because we're in different houses doesn't mean we can't be friends." Kat looked at him for a minute longer, before her face softened into a smile.

"You know, you're alright."

"Thanks."

"So? Why don't you go after him?"

"I can't. People will laugh at me."

"Who cares? Well, if you won't then I will." Sherlock tried to stop her, but she ran away, laughing, before he could grab her cloak. He watched as she went up to John at his table. She pointed at Sherlock, nodding her head, and John smiled. Then he left the hall, and Kat came back to him, smugly smiling.

"He says to meet you in the loo by the library. You know, he's really an ok guy." Sherlock smiled, and Kat chuckled quietly as he ran out the door. When he made it to the bathroom, John was standing in the doorway, smiling. Sherlock ran up to him, and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. They both laughed, but then Sherlock let go, blushing. John slapped his sides, and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"So..." Sherlock said absently.

"So." John echoed him. "How uh... How's Slytherin?"

"Oh, yeah, it's great. Really good. And Hufflepuff?"

"Oh, nice. Really nice. I accidently slept in this morning, but Adeline woke me up." Sherlock's head snapped up as he remembered the girl. He felt a pang in his chest as he thought how John was smiling at her. But he kept as calm as he could.

"Adeline?"

"Oh, it's this girl I just met. She's really nice."

"Sounds nice. Going into the boys room to wake up someone she doesn't even know." Sherlock's voice had a snarky tone to it, and John looked at him closely.

"Are you alright, Sherlock?"

"Who, me? Oh, no, I'm completely fine, never been better."

"What? Don't tell me you're jealous, Sherlock!" He laughed. Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest.

"I am not jealous!"

"Yes you are!" John covered his mouth and tried his hardest to stop laughing. When he finally did, Sherlock's face was red, and he wouldn't look John in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Sherlock."

"You should be."

"Yes, I should, and I am." John smiled, and Sherlock looked at him.

"I met someone, too."

"Oh, really? Who?" John wasn't even angry, but amused.

"Katharina. The girl who went and talked to you for me."

"Oh, you mean Kat? She really is a nice girl." Sherlock stared in exasperation at John. He could at least pretend to be jealous! John laughed and walked over to Sherlock. He put his hand on his shoulder and quickly kissed him on the cheek, before he scrambled out of the bathroom, blushing. Sherlock tentatively placed his hand on his cheek, and smiled, staring out of the bathroom after John. Then he headed back to the great hall. When the boys returned, breakfast was nearly over, and they had to leave for their first class. John's first period was herbology, but Sherlock's was potions. But they had second period together, which was brooms. John and Adeline walked to herbology together, and talked as they waited for Professor Sprout to get ready.

"Where did you go during breakfast?"

"Oh, I was just meeting a friend."

"Why couldn't you talk to them there?"

"He's not in our house."

"Oh. Well, what house is he in?"

"Slytherin." Adeline tensed up, and John stared at her, puzzled. "What is it? What's wrong with Slytherin?" She had been looking past John, like she was looking somewhere far away. But she blinked and smiled when he talked.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with Slytherin. Slytherin's fine." John opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but at that moment, Professor Sprout walked in, and class started. He resolved to ask her later.

Sherlock and Kat sat down next each other in potions class, and waited for Professor Snape to come in. Kat had a smug smile on her face, and it was driving Sherlock mad. He was just about to tell her to knock it off when she spoke.

"So, who is he? This Hufflepuff?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"John Watson." Kat huffed, and Sherlock grinned. He was determined to avoid answering her questions straight as much as possible.

"Ok, I mean who is he to you?"

"A friend."

"How did you meet?"

"On the train here."

"Damn it, Sherlock!" Kat sighed, and laughed. "What I'm trying to get at is, what do you see in a simple Hufflepuff? He's so... ordinary, and that is not like you at all."

"There's more to him than meets the eye."

"What are you, a fortune cookie?" Sherlock snorted. "Like what? What's so special about him."

"I really don't know. He's sweet. Innocently sweet. Which is strange, because..." Sherlock's voice trailed off.

"Because?"

Sherlock sighed. "Because-"

"How tender. I'm touched." Sherlock turned around to see Snape coming. "Five points for Slytherin, because that was mildly amusing." The rest of the class sniggered. Snape's comment really didn't bother Sherlock, but apparently it bothered Kat.

"Dickhead." Sherlock covered his mouth so the laughter wouldn't escape his body as Kat swore at their teacher under her breath, and he quietly snorted as she stuck up her middle finger behind his back. He made himself a mental note to tell her about John later.

When John left herbology and went outside, he blushed as he saw Sherlock smiling broadly at him. He remembered what he did in the bathroom, and his face grew hotter. He stood beside Sherlock, and gripped his hand. Sherlock smiled, and stared down at the broom by his feet. Then their teacher came, and instructed them on how to order their broom into their hand. His broom wasn't in a very cooperative mood, and he failed to understand why they couldn't just bend down and pick it up. Eventually, his broom lifted into his hand, and he smiled as he watched John's difficulty. John's broom finally flew up into his hand, but then it yanked him to the ground. Sherlock held his sides laughing, and John glared up at him. He stood up with his broom and lightly smacked Sherlock's arm. All the students stared at Nevel as he was flown around the castle on his broom.

"Three galleons he breaks a bone." Sherlock murmured into John's ear.

"You're on." They're eyes trailed after Nevel as he got caught on a spike, and then fell to the ground. They heard the instructor say he had a broken wrist, and Sherlock smirked as John grumbled and produced three galleons from his pocket. The two wizards were quietly talking, waiting for they're teacher to return, when they heard a commotion coming from the front of the group. When they looked, two boys, one of them Harry Potter, were on their brooms. Sherlock sighed.

"Why is it always Slytherin against Gryffindor? We never did anything to them, and I'm sure they never did anything too harmful to us."

"Oh, actually, this isn't just a house grudge. That other boy is Draco Malfoy, and I guess he's got a sort of bone to pick with Harry, since he turned down his friendship." Sherlock looked at John with surprise.

"Look at the big brain on John! How do you know all that?" John blushed.

"Didn't you hear them talking before the sorting ceremony?" Sherlock shook his head. "Oh. Everybody's talking about it. Adeline gave me the details." Sherlock frowned, and John rolled his eyes. They watched Harry return with Nevel's remembrall, and they all clapped and cheered. John suddenly remembered what Olivander had said about his wand, how an outgoing boy his age with curly black hair and pale skin had bought it's twin. He turned to Sherlock. "Can I see your wand?" Sherlock pulled it out and held it next to John's.

"Your's is the same as mine." The wands warmed when they were close to each other, and when they touched they made a soft humming noise.

"Olivander told me when I bought my wand that a boy like you had just left with it's twin."

"Our wands are twins! I wonder... John, go walk over there for a minute." John walked about twenty feet away. The wand only cooled slightly, it was still noticeably warm. As John came back, they grew hot.

"So, when the wands are even slightly near each other, they become warmer. I wonder what would happen if we-"

At that moment the witch lady came and called Harry, and then their teacher came back, and they continued on their brooms. Sherlock never got to finish his thought. When class was dismissed, Sherlock and John waved good-bye, and went to their separate classes. At the end of the day, John retired in front of the fire in his common room. Adeline came and sat next to him.

"Adeline?"

"Hm?"

"Earlier in herbology, what was wrong? I mean when I said my friend was in Slytherin."

"There's nothing wrong, it's just..." She sighed. "My grandad was in that house."

"So?"

"My grandad is not a good man. He's done many horrible things, to innocent people. He's a murderer. He killed his family, he killed my parents. I live in a foster home. But I'm alright now, because he's gone." John gasped, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Adeline. If I had known..."

"It's not your fault, John, I'm sure your friend is really nice. I just don't like being reminded of that house, is all." She stared into the fire. "We all have our crosses to bear." John sighed, and thought of Sherlock as he stared into the fire with his friend. After a while, he couldn't help but wonder, who was Adeline's grandad? And what did she mean when she said he was gone?

When Sherlock got to his common room at the end of the day, he had almost fallen asleep on the sofa, listening to the lake water lapping against the windows. He jumped up when Kat threw herself down next to him, and repeatedly poked at him until he finally laughed and swatted her hand away.

"So, tell me about John! You were going on about how gorgeous he is, and his amazing sweetness, or some rubbish like that." She said it playfully, and Sherlock couldn't help but smile.

"Shut up, Kat." Sherlock rolled his eyes and laughed. "I was saying that it was shocking how innocently sweet he is, because..." He sighed. "Because his parents were killed by Voldemort." Kat looked stunned.

"Really? Jesus, he seemed like such a nice guy. For him to have gone through that..." Her voice grew quieter until it was nonexistent. Sherlock looked at her and deduced that she had gone through something just as life changing as John.

"You've gone through something like that, haven't you, Katharina?" It was more of a statement than a question. She looked up and nodded at him.

"My older sister. She was killed by Voldemort. I was just a kid, but I remember that she was always nice to me. My parents, well, my mom, actually, wasn't really... nice. Jesus, who am I kidding? She's a cunt. She was always talking down to me and my sister, yelling at us, complaining, saying that we were worthless. My dad's a good man, he just was never home. Always at work. And if I wasn't being yelled at, then I was listening to my family yell at eachother. I don't know what was worse, being the victim, or the powerless bystander. I'm glad I'm here now, away from my family. I was only four when my sister was killed, and my parents and I barely escaped. I wish it was any one of us except her. My life isn't worth saving." She brought her legs in close to her body and wrapped her arms around them. Sherlock tentatively placed his hand on hers.

"You're life is worth saving." She smiled.

"We all have our crosses to bear, don't we?" Sherlock nodded.

AN: Please review or PM with questions or comments! I will post a second chapter as soon as possible.


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